The Billionaires' Club: Return of Her Italian Duke (The Billionaire’s Club) / Bound to Her Greek Billionaire (The Billionaire’s Club) / Whisked Away by Her Sicilian Boss (The Billionaire’s Club)

The way she shook her head filled him with consternation. What could he say to get through to her?

“Years ago I told you I’d find a way for us to be married. A few days ago I asked you to be my wife because there’d be no barrier between us. But there is one. It goes so much deeper than I realized.”

His words caused her to flinch, alarming him.

“When you said you and I weren’t the same people growing up, I didn’t understand how fully you meant it.” His chest felt tight. “It’s clear you don’t love me the same way I love you, no matter what I do. I can tell you would rather I keep the title, the very thing you think prevents us from ever getting married.”

He started pacing in frustration, then stopped. “Is this because of what my nonno said? It’s no wonder you don’t think you can marry me.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you. I thought if I told you about that experience, you would begin to see.”

“I see, all right,” he muttered. “Mirella deliberately interpreted it so you would only worship me from afar. She didn’t want you getting any ideas about a real relationship with the future duca. After all this time, it’s still working.”

“You can scoff about this all you want, Vincenzo, but it was very serious to me. He was a prayerful man. I saw him go to Mass in the private castello chapel every day before I left for school.”

“He wasn’t a priest destined to be cardinal one day, Gemma. Who do you think administered the Mass to him every morning?”

“You don’t have to be a priest to be a godly person. Everyone felt that way about the old duca. I know you loved him.”

“That’s beside the point. He knew he was dying. All he was doing that day was expressing his sentiment about me to a sweet girl who’d brought him his favorite dessert baked by the best cook around. But to see that as a sign from above...” He shook his head.

Gemma slid off the bed. “My mother was raised in a good Catholic family.”

He raked a hand through his midnight-black hair. “Heaven help me, so were you.”

“That’s why she honored the traditions here.”

“You’re right, but she went too far. Without giving me any voice at all, she made me out as the untouchable one, the future duca whose word was law. It’s that old divine right of kings business and it disgusts me.”

No one could confuse her like he could with his logic.

“It’s time to put the past in the past, where it belongs. There’s no room in the modern world for it. I’m a normal guy, Gemma. Warts and all.”

“You don’t have any.”

Vincenzo leaned against the door with his strong arms folded. “Of course I have flaws and imperfections, like every other man. Think about it—until I called my friends together about buying the castello, they didn’t know my last name or the fact that I inherited a title. Do you see them treating me any differently? Have they once shown me a special kind of deference?”

“Actually, no,” she said with her innate honesty.

“Good. Maybe that will convince you. Please hear me out. We need to be spending time together as adults, not as those teenagers from the past having to live by ridiculous rules that constantly divided us in your mind. It’s important—in fact, it’s vital—that you throw away the blinders while we explore the world we’re living in now as equals in all things and ways.”

* * *

Gemma could hear what he was saying, but it was so hard to silence her mother’s warnings after all these years. It meant throwing off old fears and conceptions that had dominated her thoughts forever.

“I’m in love with you. Isn’t it worth it to you to find out if you can see me as a typical man you’ve met and want to get to know better?”

Vincenzo was the most atypical man she’d ever known, but he couldn’t see it. He wasn’t a woman. She hugged her arms to her waist. “You already know what’s in my heart.”

“I do?” he quipped, making her smile. “Then prove it. Here’s what we’re going to do.”

She recognized that no-nonsense tone in his voice. When he went after something, he was impossible to stop. Gemma knew she had to get away from him. “There’s nothing to do, Vincenzo. I have to leave.”

With a few long strides, he stood in the front of the doorway so she couldn’t walk out. He was such a breathtaking male, her legs turned to mush.

“The second I learned you didn’t have a husband, I planned for us to take a vacation together. That’s why I left that night for New York. There were loose ends I needed to tie up first so we wouldn’t have anything standing in our way.”

“That’s a fantasy you need to let go of. For one thing, you just employed me. I can’t take a vacation.”

“There’s still enough time before the grand opening for us to be gone a couple of weeks. My partners will handle everything, and you’ve already done the most important work with Maurice. When was the last time you went off on a real trip anywhere? Be honest.”

Her eyes closed tightly. “I don’t remember.”

“That’s what I thought. I need a holiday badly, too, but I never felt like taking one because the woman I wanted with me wasn’t available. My fear that you were happily married and living somewhere in Italy with your husband and children tortured me more nights than you’ll ever know.”

Gemma had battled the same fears about him and had suffered endlessly for years.

“We’ll leave in the morning. Go home and get packed. I’ll come by the pensione at eight. We’ll drive to the airport and have breakfast on the plane.”

He was serious. It frightened and thrilled her at the same time. She moistened her lips. “Aren’t you too tired to go anywhere after coming back from New York?”

“When we get to the beach, we’ll sleep, relax and play in the water to our hearts’ content.”

It did sound out of this world.

“If—if we go,” she stammered, “I don’t want us to sleep together. When we’re in each other’s arms we communicate as a man and woman, but—”

“We certainly do.”

Heat filled her cheeks. “You know what I mean. I didn’t think of you as the duca while we were on the bed, but at other times—”

“I get where you’re going with this,” he broke in. “You want to see us as that man and woman no matter what else we’re doing.”

She nodded.

“So do I, so I’ll try to keep my hands off you. But I’ll warn you now, it’s not going to be easy.” He walked over to the massive dresser and pulled out a knit shirt he put on. “I thought I’d better cover up before I walk you out to your car. Fortino’s a man and would understand, but I don’t want him to get the wrong idea about you.”

“Thank you.”

His deep chuckle reverberated through her body as he caught her face between his hands, kissing her long and hard. Like old times, they wrapped their arms around each other and started down the winding staircase. Vincenzo stopped every so often to give her another kiss. She didn’t think they’d ever reach the bottom and didn’t care.

They crossed through the castello to the front entrance. “It feels like we’re the only two people on earth.”

“Don’t I wish,” he whispered against her throat. They nodded to Fortino and went down to her car. “Let’s exchange phones so we can put in our numbers. I want you to call me the second you reach the pensione.”

She nodded. When that was done, he crushed her against him. “Ci vediamo domattina.”

If she wasn’t dreaming, then she would be seeing him in the morning. Taking the initiative, she pressed a kiss to his lips and climbed in the car. “Tomorrow.”

* * *

Vincenzo packed a bag, then phoned his cousin before getting in bed. “Dimi?”

“Are you back from New York?”

“Yes, and I’m going away again, but I wanted to call you first. How’s Zia Consolata?”

“Failing a little more each day.”

“I’m so sorry. When I get back from this trip, I’ll come and spend a few days with her to give you some relief.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’ve had a breakthrough with Gemma.” He’d always told his cousin everything. For the next little while he explained what had gone on this evening. The part about her conversation with their grandfather Emanuele came as a shock to him.

“You’re right. That gave Mirella more ammunition. But I’m worried. You sound too excited, Vincenzo. The zebra doesn’t lose its stripes.”

Vincenzo didn’t want to hear that. “But she has agreed to go on vacation with me.”

“Just be warned. You’ve been in hell for years. Two weeks with her might still not be enough to make her see the light.”

His breath caught. “Thanks for your optimism.”

“I just don’t want you to end up in more pain that could last for the rest of your life.”

He didn’t want that, either, and worried about his cousin. Vincenzo wished there was more he could do for him. Dimi had relationships with various women, but his prime concern was to take care of his mother.

“I love you for caring, Dimi. Talk to you soon. Ciao.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

WHEN MORNING CAME Vincenzo dressed in chinos and a sport shirt, then met early with Cesare and Takis to tell them his plans. With everything settled, he phoned Gemma to say that he was on his way to Sopri in one of the hotel service vehicles. He’d parked his Maserati around the back of the castello.

When he pulled up in front, she came out with her suitcase. His heart rate picked up speed. She looked fabulous in white sailor pants and a sleeveless white top. He wondered how long it would be before the sight of her didn’t send adrenaline pounding through his blood.

He jumped out of the car to help her in and put her case in the back. Those luscious lips of coral were too much of an enticement. By the time he’d finished kissing her, there was no more lipstick left.

“The padrona was watching out her window.”

“Are you ever going to stop worrying about being with me?”

Her chest heaved. “I promise to try not to let my fears get the best of me.”

“That’s all I can ask.” He tucked some strands of honey-blond hair behind her ear.

“Where are we going?”

“First we’ll fly to someplace I haven’t been before. Have you ever traveled to Bari along the Adriatic?”

“No.”

“Good. I want to explore the coast.”

“Ooh. That sounds exciting. Are we taking the ducal private jet?”

“No. We’re flying commercial, like two ordinary people.”

Her head turned toward him. “Are you teasing me?”

“Does that mean you’re disappointed?”

She blushed. “Of course not.”

“We’re simply two people on holiday together, doing whatever we feel like.”

By two in the afternoon, they’d arrived at Bari international airport and rented a car. Vincenzo was starting to feel in the holiday mood. They stopped at a deli to buy some wine and a bag of Italian sausage and egg pies.

He looked over at her. “Having a good time?”

“This is the best. Can you imagine how much fun we would have had if you’d been able to drive us around years ago?”

“I’ve tried hard not to imagine what joy that would have been. In truth, if I’d driven off in a car with you, no one would have seen us again. My father knew that if I got behind the wheel of any car, I’d disappear.”

“No, you wouldn’t have. Like you told me, you’d never leave your mother.”

He squeezed her thigh. She remembered everything.

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